Unhorsed

AuGUSTO, on his fiercesome steed, led the
HORDE to break the long-held siege. The
LOSER, Augusto proved to be (shot by an arrow);
PRONE he lies, the arrow clean between his eyes.

The Trekkie

HORDE of stylish teens, then there’s
LOSER me in my JC Penny clearance rack getup and a
GUSTO for Star Trek trivia,
PRONE to wax eloquent on Kirk vs. Picard greatness comparisons.

Merry man

FRIAR Tuck, shortly
SHORN, and portly –
THREE times a day drank his fill of mead:
‘UNTIE me, Lord, from my grip on greed.’              

Father’s Day it ain’t

aBUSED and accused frequently by his bigger brother, my
CURLY-headed younger son begged me to be
JUROR in his case against his mother, his brother and the
PASTA. Did I mention that his sweet-natured mother can be
RABID in her anger when injustice occurs?
SAPPY she ain’t. For me, when it comes to arguments, I’m
UNFIT for anything but the gentlest… Continue reading Father’s Day it ain’t